


Burgundy

by Zoya113



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Drug Use, just guys being dudes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:42:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26579275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoya113/pseuds/Zoya113
Summary: When it’s been a hard week sometimes it’s better just to get high and stop caring
Relationships: Danny & Sof, Sof & Hatchetfield Bee
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	Burgundy

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve just been slacking on my visuals & showing not telling so I had to get in some practice and also if Georgia reads this it’s not a personal attack I swear

“I can be there in ten yeah, sure thing.” From the way Danny spoke, Sof figured better might already be a bit high. “Bring food?”

“Yeah I’ll handle it. Just be there okay?” 

“Is Deb coming too?” 

She paused, freezing for only a second before picking up just to catch the end of his sentence and pretend she hadn’t heard. “Yeah I’ll bring the food okay? See you in ten.” She hung up. 

She yanked her worn backpack down off the nail driven into the plaster wall. The zip had broken in her sophomore year and as much as her sister pestered her to try fixing it, it was way faster to get into her bag like that. 

She had a five dollar note saved over from the lunch she had skipped last Tuesday that she had forgotten to add to her savings. But this week pitching in five bucks for the instant gratification of getting high was so much more important than the long term reward of moving out. 

She scooped up some change along the floor of her bag caught in between forgotten and incomplete worksheets and scrunched up notes from her teachers to her mother. 

Seven twenty, all up. 

She could get some chocolate, maybe a bag of chips and have one twenty change.

She’d check the kitchen but unless high Danny was in the mood for the last two rotten apples or the burnt lasagna her mother had left out on the stove overnight she figured it wasn’t any use. 

“Are you going out?”

“Shit,” she grunted at the voice behind her, tucking her money tight into her pocket and gripping it close to her palm. She turned around to face her twin. “Yeah. Why?”

“It’s nine thirty,” she pointed out like Sof wasn’t quite clear herself. “Why are you going out?”

“Just to see Danny.”

She let out a reluctant wince, like she was asking Sof to reconsider, like she didn’t think Sof knew what she was doing. 

“Yeah. He’s my friend. We’re just going to hang out for a bit I’ll be back before midnight.”

“No, you always say you will and you never are!”

“Well, I promise I will this time will you just let me go now?” She gestured sharply over her shoulder at the front door. 

“Are you gonna go-“ she paused because to her even saying the word wasn’t quite good. 

“Get high?” She said it bluntly, unbothered by the split shock her sister had just experienced at hearing the word. “No I’m just going to go see Danny, man. I’ll be back in a couple hours okay?” 

She could feel Bee watching her, her eyes boring judging holes into her back.

In Fall, the evening air had enough of a chill to it to warrant wearing her thickest jacket and even it had two holes in the pocket seams. She only had one pair of jeans though and they weren’t for getting high in the park. Cold legs would have to do. 

Technically the park was twenty minutes away but she was a fast walker and she had developed a pretty good talent for getting out of her neighbourhood at breakneck speed. 

“Hey.” There was a middle aged man sitting on a splintered verandah a house up, cigarette smoke drifting up into the navy sky from the butt in his fingers. 

She was trained in not looking his way, but didn’t change her pace to indicate she had heard him. There was a police siren going off about two blocks down, and it was loud enough for her to keep her head down. 

“It doesn’t hurt to smile,” he said, no real tone to voice as his eyes followed her down the cracked pavement. 

“Piss off,” she spat back. 

She rubbed her thumb over the coins in her pocket, wrapping them up in the note without taking her hand out of her pocket. 

There was a seven eleven across the street and she was halfway across when she realised the patrol car at the end of the street.

Two officers were leaning up against it, their breath clouding out in front of them as they shared whispers between each other, the asshole head of their gang was standing at the end of the walkway of the house they were parked outside, chatting with someone at the door. 

A dog was barking at the police car, jumping up against the chain link fence to try and get at them. The cops were unfazed, probably more bothered by the iron screeching as it was pulled against its posts. It was a familiar sound in her area.

One of the cops caught her eye as she was crossing the street though, lowering their shades to give a Sof a warning glare.

Sof was not in the mood to get scolded by pigs over jay walking though and hurried across the darkened asphalt. 

The sterile white light from the service station greeted her as the automatic doors slid opened with a beep. 

Printed against the doors were height marks, and she could see where she lined up on the security camera feed above her. It was like this place expected crime, the clerk even kept an eye on her as she snatched a bag of chips off the shelf. She picked Danny’s favourite because he was providing tonight and she couldn’t be less worried about the food. 

“Just this, thanks. And can I get one of those bread rolls?” She placed the money down on the counter and she could almost feel him judging her. ‘What, can only afford one packet?’ So she had put all her money down, just so he knew she could buy more if she wanted. 

“The bread rolls are for the hot dogs,” the clerk informed her. Not like she was stupid, more like he was waiting for her to ask for the hot dog too.

“Yeah. Can I just get the bread?”

“Uh.” He pottered about on his machine. “Yeah. Okay. Four fifty.” 

She snatched up her change quickly, tucking it back safely into her pocket. 

She put her bag of chips under her arm so she could hold onto the warm bread roll. 

It was plain tasting but warm to her cold hands. 

She made sure to give a neutral glance back to the cops, so she could show them they were wrong for watching her so closely. Just a bag of chips, assholes. Did they want the receipt? 

“Can that guy get his dog to shut up?” One of the officers said, casting a glance over his shoulder. 

Sof had completely blocked the noise out. 

She wanted to make some quippy comment about it being part of the ambience but she was sort of swimming in trouble as she was lately. 

“God. I just want to head home,” the other officer said, readjusting their stance up against the car. “Well twenty five minutes until shift is over.”

That meant she had to be in the park in five minutes and she was still about ten way. 

Part of her didn’t really care. It was a lovely evening, the silver moon was full tonight and there wasn’t really anyone else out on the streets.

The park wasn’t in a much better area of the neighbourhood, but it was meant for kids and the bad crowd didn’t take much interest in it unless she was counted as part of the bad crowd.

“You’re late,” Danny was sitting at the park bench, on the table but not the chair of course. He was playing with his lighter like it was really the most interesting thing he had seen all day. “Did ya bring Deb?” He asked.

“Couldn’t get a hold of her.” She shook her head. Tonight she didn’t want to talk about Deb’s girlfriend or anything deep or serious or emotional, and Deb was just a notch too good for Sof and Danny. At least she tried.

“I’d text her but I’ve been booted from the piss and shit group chat again.” 

Sof let out one low yet amused chuckle. “Piss and shit,” she repeated, taking the blunt from Danny, who had evidently started without her. 

She couldn’t text Deb either and Danny knew that. Her phone had pretty much gone to shit. It only made phone calls and played music, and according to her mother that was all she needed.

She sat down on the grass, because she wanted to lie down. “Dannyphobia.”

“Everyone in the smoke club is dannyphobic,” he informed her as he shifted off the bench to sit down with her, flopping down on the grass to look up at the white stars that were clear in the sky tonight. 

She leant back down too, staring up at the moon. “It’s just public service.” She took a drag, calming in the familiar smell. “Here.”  
She handed it back.

He took another drag himself, touching it to his lips.

“Gross,” she gave him a side glance. “That’s practically like kissing.”

“Kissing the homies is not gay, Sof,” he scoffed in mock offence. “Let’s debate. Is- is kissing the homies gay?” He put his fingers to his chin thoughtfully and she snorted. 

“Kissing the homies isn’t gay,” she could feel her heart rate calming down from its usual race. She handed him the bag of chips, and he ripped into it.

“This is the good stuff,” he said with an easy sigh as she waited for it to hit. “Just two homies with the chips and the blunt and this tiny caterpillar I saw earlier- aw shit, where’d he go?” He raised his head to scan the grass around them but it was too dark and he hadn’t made an effort. “Never mind the last bit.”

She laughed, resting her head down on the hood of her jumper as she breathed in, feeling the cold air in her lungs. 

What was most interesting to her all of a sudden was Danny’s shitty DIY’d tie dye shirt. The waves almost seemed to move when she stared at them too long, and it was always calming for two seconds before it made her head start to ache. 

“Y’know that’s a class traitor move,” she told him. 

“What?” He asked, twitching his head in the crook of his arm underneath his neck towards her. “I didn’t eat all the chips.”

“Back in old times only rich people wore burgundy.”

He stared at her, but it wasn’t the way everyone else had been staring at her tonight. “I’m still lost.”

“Rich people used to wear purple. Colours were a rich thing. I’m still a peasant I got my greys and blacks,” she patted a hand to her hoodie. “I’m gonna go eat curds or some shit,” she joked in her best impression of what some old british peasant sounded like. Although she was not good at accents, it was almost sort of Russian. 

Danny cackled at the voice. “You didn’t say purple though, you said another word.”

“Burgundy. It’s like purple red,” she told him.

“I don’t think that’s real, I think you’re high already,” he elbowed her with the arm that wasn’t under his head. “You literally made that up.”

“No I think you’re high,” she countered. “You’re eighteen. And you’ve never heard anyone talk about burgundy? Not even like the wine?” 

He was giving her a look with squinted eyes and a ajar mouth, searching her expression to see if it was a joke. “Burgundy sounds like a French province.” 

“You know what Bee says about that?” 

“What does Bee says about that?” Danny mimicked her voice. 

“Women gendered language has more colour words than men,” she started lazily unable to be assed to fix her syntax. Bee wasn’t here to tell her off for it with some long spiel about something she had learnt in class. “It’s like you know that one meme of the guy pointing to the colours and he goes ‘this is red’ and the girl points at it and she goes ‘that’s scarlet, crimson and wine red.’”

Danny took a moment to process it, all the while she kept staring at the waves on his shirt. 

“What does she say about man gendered language?” He just said.

“Bee says men ain’t shit.” The joke here was that Bee would absolutely not speak like that, and it was great to hear Danny laughing from the gut. 

“Call your sister. She’s good with words. Ask her if burgundy is a real word,” he chuckled, slapping one palm into the grass to make sure he didn’t laugh too loudly and get them investigated by the patrol car down the block. 

She grabbed her phone from her other pocket, holding down the home button. “Hey Siri, call Bumble Bee.”

“Now calling Bumble Bee, honeybee emoji, cat with wry smile emoji,” 

“Cat with wry smile emoji,” Danny mimicked the flat tone from the robotic voice. “Call it the fucking smirking cat emoji. Talk about class traitor, Siri.”

It rung once, then twice, and then Sof realised Bee would probably be asleep by now, it was nearing eleven and the girl would have put her phone down. She hung up. “Ah shit. Bee didn’t answer.”

“Coward,” he slapped her side. “Here hand me your phone and I’ll try calling her. She’ll pick up for me.” 

He called her on Sof’s phone, and she still didn’t pick up of course. 

“Oh my god,” he lifted his arm to try and pass her phone back but he dropped it. 

“Fuck,” Sof was too relaxed to sit herself up to look for it so she just laughed. 

“We’ll google it when we’re straight,” he assured her, taking another seat of their blunt. “Sober. Oh my god. Gross,” he corrected himself last minute.

“If I wasn’t Dannyphobic then I am now,” she warned. “Don’t make me straight.”

“We said no homo, man. It’s not gay to kiss the homies.”

Sof gave a chuckle in response because he had list her with that conversation turn. Something didn’t add up but she definitely wasn’t doing the math.

She liked Danny. They were on the same level. Although she did give herself some more points for knowing what colour Burgundy was. 

It was nice not to be around someone who wanted to act high and mighty or like they were anything more than stoner teenagers in a small town. 

Danny was Danny, and Danny could easily be kept in line by a simple punch to the gut or a reminder that his opinion was invalid because he had a Naruto profile picture on discord one for two weeks. 

“What was that word again?” He asked.

“Uh, Burgundy.” She almost forgot herself for a second. 

“Oh. Okay. I’ll write it down.” He made no move to do that though, just crossed one arm across his stomach to stare up at the moon. 

It was ten past eleven now. 

“Burgundy?” He repeated.

“Yeah. It’s the colour of your shirt.”

“Ah. I would’ve just said tie dye.”

She grunted in response before finding the focus and motivation to speak. “Tie dye isn’t a colour.”

He seemed really puzzled by that. “Oh. Okay.”

Yeah. She liked Danny. 

She’d have to head home in fifty minutes. But for now, this was pretty good.


End file.
